


Health

by phantomhivemast3r



Series: Detroit: Become Human Oneshots [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dad Hank, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Healthy Lifestyle, Humor, Oneshot, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), son connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhivemast3r/pseuds/phantomhivemast3r
Summary: Connor wants Hank to start living a healthier lifestyle, and the first step is to improve the Lieutenant's diet. Of course, anyone who knows Hank understands his extreme resistance to change, so Connor must use his best negotiating skills to face the impossible task before him.





	Health

** Health **

“Connor, what the fuck is this?” Hank asked as a sickly green drink was placed in front of him.

“This is called a ‘smoothie,’ Hank,” Connor replied matter-of-factly, straightening up and clasping his hands behind his back. “It contains two-thirds of the recommended intake of vegetables and fruit based on your age, weight, and current health status.”

“…Okay, let me rephrase the question.” Hank let out an annoyed sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why the fuck is it in front of me?”

“You need to start eating healthier; I’ve seen you consume more alcohol and extra-cheesy pizza in the past month than one human should ever consume in their lifetime.”

“I think that’s an exaggeration, but I’m gonna ignore it for now.” Hank looked up at Connor, narrowing his eyes as the android stood passively by his side. “Look, I know you want to get me on a health kick, but does it have to start at 9am on a Sunday?”

“You’ve waited long enough, Hank.” Connor put on a cheery smile. “The sooner you start getting in the habit of eating better, the easier it will be.”

“God, you sound like my mother,” Hank said with mild disgust in his tone. He shook his head, sighing dramatically. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, kid; _I_ should be forcing _you_ to do shit you don’t wanna do.”

Connor’s smile widened. Hank swore there was a hint of slyness in his deep brown eyes, as if Connor knew that the next thing he said would be undisputable.

“I merely want you to live a long and fruitful life, _dad._ ”

Hank pursed his lips, dumbfounded at how much sass Connor had gained over the past few weeks. The detective mentally cursed himself, knowing full-well that it was _his_ constant influence that was turning this pure young man into one full of attitude. However, he knew Connor wouldn’t get to the level of dark, resigned wit that Hank had for a very long time, if he ever reached that point at all… which Hank highly doubted, based on the fact that it had taken less than a minute of silence for Connor’s smile to slip, LED flashing a concerned yellow at Hank’s lack of response.

“…Damn it, Connor,” Hank said, turning defeatedly towards the offending green drink. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no to _that_?”

Connor’s LED settled back into a calm blue as the android slid into a nearby chair, resting his arms on the kitchen table.

“I know this isn’t your drink of choice,” Connor said, gently pushing the glass closer to the detective. “But I tried to balance it so that the flavor is mainly the fruits you enjoy the most.”

“Thanks,” Hank said begrudgingly. He briefly gripped Connor’s forearm and the android grinned, knowing that this was likely the most genuine thank you he would receive before Hank took to complaining again.

“Of course, Hank.”

_Apprehension_ was the emotion that Connor identified feeling as the older detective gingerly took a swig of the smoothie. Hank’s face contorted from a look of disgusted shock as his taste buds were suddenly overcome by the presence of healthy food, to an expression of surprised content.

“Shit, that’s… that’s not half bad,” he murmured in astonishment, then took another drink Connor unclenched his fists from their subconsciously balled-up position atop the table.

“I’m glad you enjoy it,” Connor said. “I researched the top smoothie recipe online and altered it to fit the concentration of fruits and vegetables to your liking.”

“I guess if you can make 'em taste like this _all_ the time, I wouldn’t mind having one every other week or so.” Hank glanced at Connor out of the corner of his eye, wondering if the android would buy that. He gave an annoyed cluck of the tongue as Connor vehemently shook his head.

“Four to five days a week,” the android responded simply.

“What?! That’s more than any human should have to endure!”

“Many people _willingly_ drink this type of smoothie multiple times a day, seven days a week; you have it very easy compared to them.”

“Just because you’ve been reinstated onto the police force doesn’t mean you can police _me,_ you know,” Hank muttered grumpily, to which Connor cracked another smile.

“I know,” he agreed. “But if you won’t get healthier for yourself, do it for Sumo; he deserves to have you around for a long time.”

“You’re pullin’ at those fucking heartstrings again, Connor.” There was a dangerous edge to Hank’s tone, though Connor knew it was only to conceal that his tactic was working.

“Sumo!” Connor called, reaching a hand down to pet the dog as he came bounding into the kitchen. Sumo parked himself in-between Connor and Hank, tongue lolling happily out of the side of his mouth as Connor scratched behind his ears. Hank merely glared, shifting his gaze between the android and the dog.

“…Fine,” Hank eventually spat out, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in defeat. He gave Sumo some aggressive pets, causing the dog’s tail to wag excitedly. “I understand what you’re getting at, even though you’re wrong- Sumo would be okay, but I don’t know what the hell _you’d_ do without me.”

Connor’s eyes softened, knowing that Hank was trying to be kind even though his words were harsh.

“I think I’d be-” Connor paused, trying to get the intonation right. “-as you like to put it, ‘a real fucking mess.’”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Connor, what’ve I told you about swearing?!” Hank exclaimed, recoiling as if the curse emitted from Connor’s mouth had given him a physical shock. “It does _not_ fucking suit you!”

Instead of responding with an apology, an explanation, or a defense, Connor merely laughed. It was an awkward sound, for he wasn’t type of person to laugh easily, save for giving a mild chuckle on occasion. The noise was slightly mechanical, the deviant part of Connor’s programming still working on the ability to sound “natural” when laughing at full-tilt. In all honestly, it creeped Hank out, but the detective never said anything. He was just happy that Connor could express the emotion in the first place.  

“Alright, alright, shut up and let me finish this,” Hank eventually grumbled, before tipping the smoothie back and drinking the rest of it in one go. He slammed the glass onto the table, making an exaggerated choking sound. “Ugh, I need a beer to wash that shit down…”

“It's inadvisable to have alcohol before three in the afternoon,” Connor said, automatically taking the glass and placing it in the dishwasher, a minute piece of programming in the back of his mind still wanting to keep things tidy.

“Now you’re restricting my alcohol intake?!” Hank said, offended. “That’s too fucking far, Connor.”

In response, Connor merely shrugged, knowing that Hank wasn’t truly angry. He would come around eventually, once the benefits of drinking more healthy smoothies and less unhealthy alcohol were hammered into his brain enough. And, Connor would be there to guide him every step of the way.

After all, as Connor had claimed earlier, he and Sumo wanted the begrudging detective to stay around for a long, long time.


End file.
